


Dirty Deeds and Sinful Things

by GiggleSnortBangDead



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Oral Sex, Rimming, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, Werewolves, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 13:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4608471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiggleSnortBangDead/pseuds/GiggleSnortBangDead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth is the Heavyweight Champion at the WWE (Werewolf Wrestling Entertainment). He and his former mates have a forced reunion in a nice hotel room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Deeds and Sinful Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hanggracefully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanggracefully/gifts).



> Okay. Wow. So. A lot to unpack here.
> 
> First off, this is a birthday present for my best friend, Grey! Happy birthday, kiddo!
> 
> Second, this is my first time writing rasslin porn. So, I hope it's alright. And, uhm, this is set before Battleground 2015 because that's how fucking long ago I started to work on this fucking mess. 
> 
> Also, basically everyone's werewolves. So, I'm following some vague werewolf-mating rule bullshit; so like, mates, faster healing, quarter-shifts at will, enhanced hearing, other stuff. Whatever. I really doubt you're here for the werewolf mythos, tbh???
> 
> Also the title is from Cherub's Monogamy, which always makes me thing of rasslin simply because they say dirty deeds in it. Like, that's it. It has literally nothing else to do with anything.
> 
> Enjoy!

“How long has it been since you’ve seen your mates?”

Seth looked at Vince very hard. He certainly didn’t want to insult the man who’d done nothing but encouraged him and bolstered his career, especially considering he was his boss. But that was a stupid fucking question. He saw them almost every day. Vince knew that. Ultimately, as much as he pretended to commiserate with him, he benefited from that arrangement. 

Triple H, standing a little behind Vince, raised an eyebrow after he’d be silent for a second. “Seeing as I work with them,” Seth said evenly, “And I just had a match with Dean - ”

“No, no, no.” Vince shook his old head, his wrinkled mouth pulling into a loose line, like Seth was willfully misunderstanding. “How long has it been since you’ve mated with them?”

“Oh.” Seth stated, trying to hide his discomfort. “Uhh, not since the split.”

Vince looked at some of the paperwork on his desk, _hmm_ ing and humming as he considered this admission. Seth felt more than a little frustrated with the pretense. McMahon had to know. Everyone knew on some level. It wasn’t like Seth could do what he did and then go home and snuggle into bed with his mates. He’d understood that clearly when he’d been first introduced to the idea of joining the Authority, and he’d thought everyone else had understood that as well.

“Ignoring a mating bond for so long can have some serious negative side effects, I understand.” Vince explained.

“Yeah, I know. But I mated when I was young,” he said, like he’d said a thousand times before. “I didn’t really think it through. Like you said before, Ambrose and Reigns were holding me back. I wanted to be on my own. I’m willing to sacrifice for that.” and for good measure, he added, “Really, I hardly feel them.” Vince nodded, like this pleased him. Hunter crossed his arms, hearing a lie. Seth didn’t care and refocused on the old man, knowing he only had to convince one person.

“I’m sure you don’t, but with a bond like yours was…” He let the words linger meaningfully, but Seth wasn’t sure he liked what he meant.

“You’re saying ‘cause I was in a three person mate bond - ”

“Technically, you’re still in it.” Hunter smiled, smug. He reminded them both, “Wolves mate for life.”

“And, yes.” Vince allowed. “It’s a fact that bonds with multiple mates are usually stronger, more volatile. Less refined.” He said it like he didn’t even think it was a little offensive, and Seth had to bite his tongue to keep the reflexive argument quiet. He didn’t care what Vince thought about his mating. His mating didn’t even matter anymore.

“Have you been having sex?” Vince continued on, looking at him earnestly now. 

Seth started to feel very uneasy, which he realized was probably a late response. He looked at Hunter, who gave away nothing. “Some.” he admitted, hesitant.

Vince grinned. “Don’t look so embarrassed! No one’s going to blame you! Most wolves can’t handle monogamy, even when in a mate bond. They’re not wired for it – too tapped into that animal side. Hell, I’m not even a wolf and I can’t blame you.” Vince said, winking, friendly, cheerful, half-conspiratorial. Not for the first time, Seth wondered if Vince was fucking with him, or if he was really that backwards and just didn’t realize it. Seth didn’t know anyone else who still believed things like that. He reminded himself that he didn’t care, because his mating didn’t even matter.

“Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, Vince.” Seth said, “But what’s the point of all this? I mean, it doesn’t make any sense for you to fly all the way down here just to talk about my mating status. And this is a little different from our usual small talk.” and he smiled, waiting for Vince and Hunter to get in on the joke and start laughing. While Triple H almost looked amused, Vince deigned a very serious moue, which made him look his age, however ancient that was, and clasped his hands in front of him.

“There’s no easy way to say this, Seth.” Vince intoned. “But the Authority is a worried about these recent developments in your upcoming Lesnar match, and we want to make sure the title stays in friendly, and deserving, hands. And in your current mental state, we’re not sure you’ll be able to handle it.”

Seth, appalled at being so wrongfully doubted, snapped, “What mental state?”

Vince at least had the decency to look uncomfortable as he managed slowly get out, “We all know someone like you needs a certain level and kind of intimacy to stay in top form. There have been many studies of,” and here he cleared his throat, “ _Submissive_ wolf partners - ”

“I’m _not_ submissive!” And Hunter snorted, which didn’t help. Vince carried on, ignoring them both.

“—After extended periods of absence from their mate, some wolves can’t perform as well as they might otherwise.”

“I’m preforming fine.” Seth argued. “Just spit out what you want from me.”

Vince, huffy from Seth’s tone, gave Hunter a chance to explain. “We want you to have sex with your mates. It’ll clear your head for Battleground.” Seth snapped his mouth shut. He’d suspected they might be going towards this but didn’t want to believe that they would. 

“You’d have nothing to worry about,” Vince promised. “Ambrose and Reigns are both otherwise occupied as far as Battleground goes, so we don’t think they’ll use this as an opportunity to sabotage you. They’re probably aware of the benefits of an arranged mating as well.”

“Besides.” Hunter said with a smile. “You can take care of yourself, can’t you?”

Seth shook his head, his nerves starting to get the best of him. “I apologized for what I said on Raw already.” he reminded them, knowing it didn’t matter. “I’m good with J&J. I sent Kane to fucking Hawaii to make up for it. You don’t need to do this.” 

“Seth, Seth, Seth,” Hunter said, one hand raised in a mock conciliation, his tone dripping with fake sincerity. “This isn’t a punishment. It’s what’s best for business.”

Without the insincerity of his son-in-law, Vince nodded. “Yes. We talked about this at length. It really is best for business.”

“You might even enjoy it.” Hunter said, teeth bared in a way that made it clear that no one actually thought he would.

Vince agreed again. “Ambrose and Reigns aren’t the worst looking wolves,” he admitted with no small amount of discomfort, “If you’re into things like that.” 

“But I’ve been trying to stay _away_ from them.” Seth near-whined. When Triple H’s smile widened at the pitch, Seth repeated lower, gruffer, “This is unnecessary. I don’t want anything to do with them. If anything, the fact that I have to do this – with people that _disgust_ me – might distract me from my real prep for the Lesnar match.”

“We already thought about that.” Vince waved him off. “We know you’re a professional. You won’t let this impact you negatively. We all have to do hard things to reach our full potential.”

“We wouldn’t be pushing you so hard if we didn’t believe in you.” Hunter said and, for the first time, he almost seemed to mean it, but it could have just been Seth’s rapidly circling thoughts disorienting him. “Like we’ve said, you’re best for business.”

“Best for business.” Vince confirmed.

“Best for business.” Seth echoed, his stomach dropping as he settled into his situation.

* * *

Sometimes Seth woke up cold.

When he’d first considered leaving his Dean and Roman – as he liked to put it – he’d covertly looked up what side effects he might expect from prolonged separation from his mates. Everyone said he’d feel depressed, restless, possibly paranoid. His sex drive, if he and his mates had engaged in sexual activity, would be thrown and he’d either be horny all the time or never. Some people got nauseous, shaky, and that might not go away for months or even years. He’d have trouble sleeping, be tired all the time, fall into crying fits, go into rut unexpectedly, and never fully be satisfied again, was what people said. And it would be even worse the more mates he left.

He’d gone through with it anyway, and then _waited_ for the side effects, and nothing happened. He was, understandably, a little paranoid. He was horny, sure, but not much more than usual. Sometimes he felt bad, but Vince or Triple H or Steph were always there to remind him that it was to be expected, and that it was worth it. 

But he never got sick; no shakes, no hot sweats or cold sweats, no crying suddenly. He defied the stereotypes so well that some people questioned, mostly in online forums, if he’d really been mated in the first place. There was a pang of hurt whenever anyone made that assertion, but he would get over that too someday. 

And if, sometimes, when he caught a lingering whiff of their combined scents in the locker room at the end of the night, once he was already a little tired and achy from the day, he'd want to curl into a ball because his stomach twisted so badly and he thought his chest might burst open, it didn’t matter. He pulled himself together and called one of the many distractions he had and he got himself through it. He was a champion, after all. If anything, he was glad it happened, because it reminded him of just how strong he was. 

And if, sometimes, when Dean had him pinned, and it was late in match, and Dean was positioned between his legs just right with Roman watching from the sidelines, he wanted to whine and roll over and present, it didn’t matter. He was (usually) still able to kick out. And if he started to release pheromones that had Ambrose growling and clumsy, his eyes flashing _wolf_ and _mate_ , a sharp, knowing, joyless smile twisting his mouth, Seth aware that Roman and all other nearby wolves could smell it, it didn’t matter. He always kept his title.

And maybe Hunter never fucked him hard enough, or at least the way he liked. And maybe J&J never felt like enough, no matter what they tried. Maybe sometimes Roman and Dean would kiss or scent one another before a fight and Seth would feel a little hysterical, almost like he was the one being betrayed. None of that mattered because Seth was where he wanted to be, who he wanted to be – and he only had himself to thank.

But sometimes, he woke up cold and confused because his wolf knew there were supposed to be more people in its bed. Seth had always squirmed and yipped in his sleep, since he was a pup, kicking the covers off the bed, waking up freezing if he kept the fan on. It didn’t stop until he started sleeping with Roman, who would pull him under an arm and keep him warm and still. (Dean was a runner, always chasing rabbits, or so he said, in his dreams, but their scent all together seemed to calm him enough.) 

So, the only thing that really bothered him, the only real downside, was waking up cold and alone – and he had dogs to take care of that.

* * *

He didn’t know how Vince had convinced them, how much convincing it had taken, but he ended up in a hotel suite with his mates and Triple H. He thought Vince might have insisted his son-in-law escort their champ there, worried he might bail, but he also just might have wanted to watch Seth sweat.

“I won’t be far,” he promised in the elevator up. “I’ll come in if things go too far.” Seth could tell he was lying.

Dean looked furious, already seething before they’d even entered the room. Seth could see Roman’s nostrils flare to scent him, his dark brow furrowed, but he was otherwise unresponsive. Seth sort of wanted to duck behind Hunter but instead he squared his shoulders, thrust his chin up, met both of their eyes in succession.

“You have the room for the night.” Hunter told them, breaking the tense silence.

“We won’t need it that long.” Seth said. With what Seth was planning, Hunter didn’t even need to leave the room. Just a few, quick hand jobs and then Seth could be on his way, pick his dogs up from J&J, and settled in to his cool, lonely hotel room. 

Dean and Roman didn’t say anything, just looked at each other. Hunter snorted and continued, “I’ll be around. Give me a call, Seth, and I’ll come to get you when you’re done – if you don’t find something else.”

Seth tried to think of some response, something to say to get Hunter to stay for longer, but the way his mates were staring, _glaring_ at him was starting to make him lose his chill. Triple H gave one more appraising look around the room and then left with little more than a _see ya_.

As soon as he was gone, Roman stalked after him, flipping the latch and locking the door. Dean ran a hand through his hair, getting his stupid bangs out of his face, looking more like he used to then Seth was comfortable with. Roman came to stand behind him, not touching him but close enough for his scent to be overpowering. Seth felt a whine building in his throat, and he, with a jerk, stepped to the side, wanting some distance. Roman and Dean allowed it, moving, fluid, animal, to meet each other in the middle, and Seth felt like prey in the worst way possible.

“So,” he croaked out. “How did they talk you guys into this?” Dean made a noise that almost sounded like laughter. It was mean and harsh and felt too loud in the room. “What?” he choked, the word startled out of him. His gaze darted to Roman, who had a hand on Dean’s back, his eyes on Seth’s wrist, on his mating mark. Seth fought the urge to shove his hand in his pocket.

“They just asked if we wanted to spend a night with our mate.” Roman said.

“Said we could do whatever we wanted with you,” Dean piped in, turning into his mate’s grip, a hand on his broad shoulder, “Just so long as we didn’t do anything to ruin your match with Brocky Boy.”

“Why don’t you strip?” Roman hummed, his voice a soft growl.

“No.” Seth said, taken aback, “I was thinking we could just - ” 

“I don’t think you get how this is gonna go down, pretty boy. So you should probably get naked before we make you,” and with a huge smile, Dean added, “Unless you still like that.”

“I bet he still likes that.” Roman said. “I bet he still likes a lot of things.”

“Stop that.” Seth hissed and tore off his jacket, throwing it to the side. He started to pull his shirt over his head, bitching, “You can’t say stuff like that anymore.”

Dean was right in front of him when he tossed his shirt aside. “You’re so slow, princess.” He brought his hands to Seth’s fly, and Seth jerked away like it burned. “Aw, Rome, look. I think he’s nervous.”

“Him?” Roman snorted, as Seth undid his own zip, looking at his hands as opposed to the other men. “Nah. You know he’s always been a tease.” Seth bit back the defensive _I am not!_ he wanted to shout, knowing it would just fuel his mates more. He shimmied his pants and underwear off, finally looking up again, trying to seem exasperated, impatient, as he eyed to two of them.

“Well,” he huffed. “Are you two going to get undressed or are you just going to stand there like idiots?”

Roman met Dean’s gaze and Seth didn’t like the look they were sharing. He crossed his arms in front of himself and shifted on his feet. He hadn’t felt his vulnerable naked since he was a teenager. Dean let his eyes roll down Seth’s torso and groin and legs. “You been keeping yourself all pretty and trimmed up. Who you doing that for? Or did you get it done special for us?”

Seth just rolled his eyes and, too uncomfortable to just keep standing there, he made his way over to the bed. “Can we please just get this over with?”

“He’s impatient.” Dean grinned to Roman.

“Always was.” Roman shrugged.

“Will you two fucking _stop?_ ” Seth finally snapped, feeling himself heating too much, his whole body tense with his embarrassment. When he turned towards them again, Dean was right behind him and before he could even gasp, the man was pushing him onto the bed. Seth landed with a bounce, the bed big and comfortable so the fall wasn’t an issue, but his still felt achy and nervous. His eyes fell on Dean’s face, only barely registering that Roman was shedding his jacket and moving to join them. Dean was starting to box him in, arms coming to bracket Seth’s hips, jean-clad knees bending on the mattress so he could straddle Seth’s legs. 

“Stop.” Seth said as strongly as he was able. Dean just snorted and pressed in closer, and Seth could practically taste his scent of rain and copper and smoke. All of it, the familiarity of Dean’s scent, the look on his face, had Seth pushing at his chest, nose turned away so he could breathe without whining. “Stop,” he repeated, hands unusually weak against the other man. “Just wait,” he asked, trying to scoot away just enough so that he could think.

Dean caught him under the knee and yanked him back, held him in place. “What do you think you’re doing, darlin? You’re gonna hurt my feelings.” he said, and his fingers dug right into the meat of Seth’s thigh, pulling his leg spread, settling and heavy and warm and familiar between them, until he was shouting;

“Stop! Hunter! Dean, _stop!_ Help! Someone _help!_ ”

Roman, closer than Seth had noticed, smothered a hand over his mouth, settling in behind him, his other arm curling around his struggling torso.

“Thanks, Rome.” Dean grinned, showing all his teeth.

“No problem.” Roman returned, seemingly unaffected as he tried to keep up with Seth’s frantic bucking and jerking. 

To Seth, Dean hummed, “Now, I better not hear you calling for another man again.” Both of his hands were clutching his mate’s thighs, holding them still as the Seth tried to desperately kick him in the face. “Nobody’s coming for you tonight, princess. No one but me and Roman. I hope that’s still enough for your greedy, little cunt."

Making an abandoned noise of disgust, although Seth was becoming more and more painfully aware of his growing erection and just how close Dean was to brushing against it. He wrenched his knees up once more, tried to wiggle or squirm or fight his way out of their hold, but couldn’t. All it got him was a low, warm chuckle in his ear, Roman’s breath hot on his neck, all of it sending electricity down his spine. 

“Darlin, shh.” Dean said, and with a meaningful glance at his partner, they flipped their mate onto his stomach. Roman’s hands moved from Seth’s mouth, one centering between his shoulder blades, forcing his chest against the bedspread, the other holding Seth’s wrists together, pinned close to his head. Dean hitched his hips up, kept his thighs spread. “We’re gonna give you just what you need.”

With that promise, Seth felt Dean lean in, trailing right up the back of his things, hands coming up to spread his cheeks apart. A little lightheaded from it all, his cock now stiff despite how little they had done and how he’d wanted even less, he shifted his legs uselessly. When he felt Dean’s breath against his rim, and what the man intended to do became clear, he shied his hips away as best he could, muffling “ _No_.” into the covers. 

Roman’s hand on his back pet a small circle in a mockery of comfort. “Shh.” someone said, but Seth’s mind was racing too fast to distinguish who.

“I like it when he’s loud.” someone gruffed.

“Like we could actually stop him from being - ” 

“No,” Seth repeated, louder this time, trying to sit up. The grip on his back turned harder, Dean’s hands clutching his ass pulling his hips back in place. There was warm breath over his hole, Dean pausing long enough to give Seth a moment to growl, frantic, trapped, deep in his chest, moving towards his wolf in panic.

When Dean finally lapped his tongue out, Seth froze. Almost instantly, Dean was groaning at the taste, burying his face in deeper, pressing hard and wet and insistent against Seth’s asshole. Seth couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely breathe, Instinct warring inside of him to bite and claw his way to safety, or to tilt his ass up for a long-awaited mating.

Dean pulled up, rubbing his thumb over the little pucker, smearing saliva, circling and pressing harder, almost dipping in. “How long has it been since you got a kiss here, sweetheart?” Seth didn’t say anything, just tried to keep his chest from shuddering with each intake of breath. He was already too overwhelmed. “Huh?” Dean prompted. “Don’t tell me this sweet little thing gets forgotten when you take someone home.” And when Seth didn’t respond again, Dean took his tumb away and then smacked him, hard, across the cheek, finally getting a sound out of his mate as he gasped at the sudden sting. Meaner this time, “Does _Hunter Hearst Helmsley_ take the time to eat out your sloppy, slutty asspussy when you’ve been a _good boy?_ ” He hit him gain. “Does he tongue fuck you like you need?”

” _Stop_.” Seth rasped out desperately.

“Shut your mouth, or I will shut it for you.” Dean hissed, hitting him again, harder this time. He then, gently, smoothed a hand over the burn, drawling a gruff, “And it’s such a pretty mouth – we have a lot of reasons to want it open tonight. Don’t we, Rome?”

“I’d say we do.” Roman murmured.

Without another word, Dean bowed his head to his task once more, lapping and licking, not quite eating his way inside yet but coaxing the muscles relaxed like he’d done a hundred times before. His light stubble was start to rub him a little too raw. Seth bit his lip, balled his fists. He tried to think of how he’d get out of this, but his head was cloudy with the long missed scents of his mates surrounding him like this.

Dean was moaning behind him, unabashed, sucking on his rim, like he’d missed the taste. One of his hands left Seth’s ass, and it became clear that he was cupping himself through his jeans, rocking into his palm if the rhythm he made with his tongue was anything to go by. 

“Slow down.” Roman rumbled over the slick sounds of Dean’s mouth. Dean just hummed, pulling his hand away and then his mouth, trailing down instead to bite and suck at his mate’s upper-inner thigh, clearly wanting to bruise. Seth finally bit through his own lip and then cried, open mouthed, as Dean tore mercilessly between his groin and thigh. 

“There he is.” Dean sing-songed. As he sat back for a second, wiping his mouth, Roman raised Seth’s face to inspect his lip. The wound had already healed, but there was still blood there and, jaw cupped delicately in his big hands, Roman leaned in to lick the mess off, humming in his pleasure. Seth nearly whined, eyes clenching shut, cheeks hot, and he tried to pull away. Roman didn’t even kiss him or anything like that; just ate off the mess and then released the man’s face, pushing him down again.

So this time, while Dean kissed his hole, Seth was further up, in Roman’s lap, close to the man’s pants leg. Dean had pushed his hips up even more, returning to his post with renewed gusto, starting to fuck his tongue in. Seth couldn’t help it. It felt good and missed and Roman’s warm scent was filling his head so much he thought he’d go dizzy with it. He ended up moaning, breath hitching with each stroke, thighs trembling, torn between rocking into the pressure and trying to shy away.

“That’s him.” Dean laughed, back to rubbing the pucker with his fingers, pushing inside as a tease and then circling his hole. “That’s the slut I remember.” It made Roman laugh too, and Seth wanted to cry, embarrassment raking through him.

“I’m not - ” he choked out, before making himself quiet, knowing, for once, it was better to shut the fuck up. Dean was mouthing at him, messy, kissing his insides. Seth filled his mouth with the material of Roman’s pants to keep silent, Roman chuckling, petting a hand over the back of his neck.

“What?” Dean gruffed, barely raising his head.

“I think we might need to get on filling his mouth. He’s getting restless.”

“Aw,” Dean cooed, smoothing a hand down Seth’s flank. “Pretty boy, you could have told us.” As he said it, he slid a finger up Seth’s skin, over and into his hole. It burned, but not much, and Dean was slowly twisting, rubbing, and trying to hook against a perfect spot. “Come on,” he asked, just as he brushed over a sweet little bundle of nerve that had Seth’s whole body jerking, his cock spitting precome under him. “Why don’t you ask Roman to fill your mouth up?”

He kept assaulting that spot, clearly liking the way his mate’s back tensed and his ass clenched up and the bitten off whimpers he made. Seth hated him so much in that moment, hated both of them, that he let go of Roman’s pants and spat out, “ _Fuck you_ ,” instantly regretting it. 

Without consulting each other, without speaking, Dean and Roman flipped him around, his back now on the bed, Roman still pinning his wrists. Dean pushed his legs up, over his head, exposing his asshole to the chill of the room. Seth tried to wiggle on his back with no real leverage, knees by his ears, toes curling with his nerves. 

Dean laughed, sounding genuinely amused. Now that Seth could basically see his face, he could see the wolf in his features, delighted in its prey. “Would you look at that?” he exclaimed. “His hole just winked at me.” To Seth, he said, low, conspiratorial, “I think it’s flirting with me, the _slut_.”

“ _Stop_.”

Dean sighed and shared a look with Roman, who pressed his fingers against Seth’s lips, dipping in before Seth could realize what was happening. He bit down instantly, mouth filling with blood, but Roman only grunted, tightening his grip on his mate’s wrists. Seth ended up gagging on the fingers and blood in his mouth, choking when Dean spanked over his hole, sharp and fast. The second time, Seth squeaked, his legs twitch and kicking uselessly. His eyes scrunched, and his cock was still hard, dripping onto his own chest as he swallowed Roman’s blood and Dean hit him a third time.

“You used to be so smart.” Dean told him before smacking him on more time. “What the fuck happened to you? he growled, and spanking over his swelling, fluttering asshole, he leaned in to kiss him again, nipping at the skin around his rim and then sloppily making out with his center while Seth squirmed, close to crying. 

“I don’t think I can hold out anymore.” Dean said, gripping himself through his pants again. “Just really quick. I won’t knot.” he promised Roman, who was thoughtful, still pacifying their mate. Seth’s legs were shaking. He was flexible, sure, but he wasn’t sure this was a position he could hold for much longer.

Roman finally allowed it and Dean unbuckled his belt, undid his pants without another though. Seth’s legs were lowered, not fully to the bed, but enough that Dean didn’t have to stand. Dean held one knee, Roman the other, Seth’s eyes widening as Dean, thick cock poking out through his zipper, started to nudge the head of his dick in place. He tried to think of something to say to stop him. 

“Use a condom,” he blurted out.

“Why?” Dean snorted. “Hunter give you something? You catch some human disease from letting Vince and his saggy, old dick poke around?” Which was ridiculous, and they both knew wolves couldn’t carry like that, but it still hurt, wounded deep and low in Seth’s chest.

Seth, in the lowest voice he could manage, stated, “I don’t want to smell like you.”

And something in Dean’s face, something that Seth hadn’t noticed was open and playful, shut off. His teasing smile thinned into a resigned line. “Well, fuck what you want.” he harshed and pushed in.

The head popped in easily enough; it was the rest of the length that proved difficult. The minor prep Seth’d been given only extended so far, only stretched him so much, and as Dean started to edge the rest of the way in, Seth felt his eyes rolling back, brain shorting out, mouth falling open. Dean tried to shove in another inch and Seth was shaking his head frantically, gritting his teeth, heart pounding.

“Aw, Rome, he’s going soft.” Dean said, hoisting both of Seth’s shins over his shoulders, paused in his forward press. 

“Well, we brought lube for a reason, Dean.” Roman reminded him. Dean just looked bitter, petulant, like he was about to whine _but I’m halfway in!_ Almost as if to spite Roman, Dean continued to push in to the hilt, their eyes locked. Seth couldn’t focus on anything as it was, the dry, hot friction too much for him. He was panting, soft whines escaping more often then he’d like, his fingers curling into fists, wishing he had something to grip to ground him. 

Dean experimented a thrust, to see how far back he could drag his cock in the tight, dry, velvety heat of his mate’s body, and ended up hissing, like he was the one being hurt. “Fuck, it’s a tight fit.” Roman made a noise, something knowing and amused, and Dean tried to roll his hips again, making Seth gag on his own spit. “Shit. Okay, get the lube.” he said like he was admitting defeat. “He’s way too tight. This is nowhere near as fun as I thought it would be.”

Roman snorted and got up, leaving his wrists free. Thinking it might be his chance, Seth reached forward and pushed at Dean’s shoulders with as much less force than he expected. “I don’t want this,” he tried to say, though the words felt sticky in his throat. “You’re _hurting_ me.” he rambled, like it mattered. Dean just looked at him, mouth set, face hard, unreadable. “ _Please_ , don’t do this to me.” he tried, voice cracking. 

Roman handed his mate the bottle and Dean flicked open the cap. He didn’t meet Seth’s eye as he slicked up his fingers and slopped up his rim, thrusting his hips, trying to wet his dick retro-actively. It burned and Seth had to set his jaw tight to keep from making any more humiliating noises. It almost felt worse when Dean’s cock was finally slick enough, trusting in once, just to test it. All of Seth was fixated on this single point of contact, his senses overwhelmed by the _coppersmokerainspice_ in the air, their scent so thick as he sweat and panted and Dean started to dick in shallowly, selfishly, that Seth thought he could almost taste it.

He was hurting, mostly unpleasantly, his erection still flagged until Roman got a rude hand between his legs, tugging him hard. Seth was having a harder and harder time keeping his mouth shut. Roman’s hand was big and warm and rough and the grip wasn’t something he’d use on somebody precious, like Seth remembered being. All of it had him so close to spilling, his whole body tensing, his cock smearing precome all over his mate’s fingers.

“Oh, that’s good, brother.” Dean was rambling, body bending forward involuntarily. “Keep doing that. His little cunt’s clenching down so hard. I’m gonna come.” 

Roman laughed. “Less than three minutes?”

“Fuck you,” Dean spat back, smiling anyway, but he seemed to want to hold on a little longer. He pulled out which ached, Seth feeling too hot and shivery and empty between his legs. Before he could try to figure out his mates’ next moves, Dean was leaning in, hitching his thighs above his head again, going to town on his soft, pink asshole. 

Seth made a loud, high sound, his mouth gaping open. It was all too much, too good. Roman held his jerking, trembling legs steady as he tried to kick out and Dean nearly growled at his rim, mouth devouring his over-sensitive, already sore muscle.

“Stop.” Seth was begging before he could quiet himself, still trying to twist away. “ _Stop, please_ , Dean.” he started to sob. “ _Stop_.”

Dean started to work a finger inside, zeroing in on Seth’s prostate, making him almost shout as he brutalized the small thing. Seth’s eyes were unfocused, his body suddenly locked still with tension, and suddenly he was coming, shooting hot and hard against his own face, spunk dripping on his beard as he panted and groaned at the sensation of Dean’s eager, clumsy prodding.

“I knew he could still do that.” Dean said, lining up again and pushing in, fucking in with quick, solid strokes, masturbating himself inside of Seth’s body as he lay motionless on his back, face wet and hot from tears and jizz and spit. Seth let his eyes close, not able to risk looking at either of them, and Dean finished, slapping in one final time with a groan. 

They eased his legs down, and he curled up on his side, thinking, ashamed, clearly too occupied to care about whatever silent exchange Roman and Dean were having. 

“Are we done?” Seth rasped, bitchy, hoping his voice didn’t sound too shaky.

“What do you think?” Roman asked. 

Seth closed his eyes tight for a moment. “Can I at least go clean up? I have come drying in my beard.”

When Dean finally spoke, he tried to ignore the evident grin in his voice. “Sure, princess. But don’t try anything funny – or you’ll lose all clean-up privileges for the rest of the night.” His hand came to Seth’s hip, squeezing gently, and it felt so good, like Seth was really something special to him, that Seth hated it and hated him even more. “You’ll have to stay all messy ‘til you leave – and we all know how much you hate that.”

Seth didn’t respond, just pulled out his grip and got up. His eyes caught on the door out and the bathroom and the window. He thought about locking himself in the bathroom, even though he knew they could probably pull the door off its hinges if they wanted to get to him, which did something weird and contradictory to his stomach. He decided against it and went in, keeping the door open, wetting a towel to clean off his face and then the slowly seeping come between his legs. Through the mirror, he looked at the door out and tried to weigh his options.

If he managed to get the door unlocked in time, with his shaky knees and fingers he was certain would fumble with nerves, he’d still have to get down the hallway and to the elevator or stairs, naked, his lower half sore, legs trembling. Best case scenario, Triple H would find him before the police were called for public indecency – and he knew Vince wouldn’t be happy if two of his main ticket stars were arrested for assault. And, even then, they wouldn’t be held long because they were mates, and they were wolves, and Seth would never press charges because of the media circus that would follow.

But, meeting his own eyes in the mirror for a second before flashing away in shame, he understood that Dean and Roman would only get worse. He was worried about running out of the suite on his unstable legs now, but he might not even be able to walk out at the end. He had a career to think about and an ache deep in his chest to ignore, and he didn’t think this was best for business. 

By the time he finally left the bathroom, Roman and Dean had formed a familiar, almost inviting picture. They were kissing, open mouthed, Roman’s hand on Dean’s neck, holding him still as he fucked into mouth with his tongue. Dean’s jeans and belt were still open in the front, though his cock had been tucked back in, almost visible between the v of his zipper and the soft patch of light curls. His own hand was on Roman’s cock, stroking it through his pants. The sweet, unassuming obscenity of it all, the slackness of Dean’s mouth, the thick, obvious bulge in he front of Roman’s pants, the low, throaty growling that Seth couldn’t exactly place, almost had him returning to the bed. But, Dean’s eyes caught his, icy and smug, and Seth bolted.

“Ah, fuck,” Dean sighed. Roman was already on his feet and Seth was undoing the latch, scrambling for the handle, trying to wrench it open. He got it maybe half a foot open when someone speared him right onto the ground, the door shutting itself at the force. As lush as the carpet was, it still fucking hurt, and Seth groaned. He wasn’t given any time to recover, Roman flipping him onto his stomach and then pulling him onto his knees.

“You wanna give me a hand here?” Roman snapped at his partner. Seth could see, if he strained his eyes to look up, Dean stretched out on his side, grining, watching them lazily. 

“Nah. I think you got it covered.”

Roman huffed, and then turned his attention to his hands, one holding Seth’s wrists behind his back, the other groping an asscheek. “That was really stupid.” and he seemed to be waiting for a response, but Seth didn’t know what to say, his heart jackrabbiting too fast for him to think about anything but his sinking stomach. Roman hit him and prompted, “It was stupid, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Seth croaked, and bit his lip because he felt his eyes heating like he might start crying again. He could feel his mate considering him and he tried not to move at all, though his legs were quaking now and his lips might have been trembling. 

“Hold yourself open.” Roman gruffed.

And it was like some kind of barely held together damn broke in Seth. His fingers gripped at the carpet and he begged frantically, pleading, “Roman, not again, not like this, please, I can’t – Roman, please – ”

“Shut up.” he hissed. “Don’t make this worse for yourself.”

Seth sobbed, wracked, and reached back to spread his cheeks apart.

“What do you think?” Roman asked Dean. “Ten or twenty?”

“Why not thirty?” Dean shrugged.

Roman laughed, and Seth tried to keep breathing and not make any noise. “We’ll split the difference.” He ghosted his thumb over Seth’s already puffy, abused hole. “How does twenty-five sound, baby brother?” And the combination of the number and the old endearment made Seth heave a sob again, which seemed to be answer enough. “Should I make him count?” 

Scoffing, Dean asked, “Do you think he can?” which just made Roman huff a laugh and then hit over his hole, sharp and quick. 

Truthfully, Seth almost wished he’d had to count because he lost track almost immediately and it meant he had to focus on Roman’s hard hand hitting between his legs and then smoothing his fingers over the ache, and that was so much worse.

“What’s it look like back there?” Dean asked.

“Like a real, pretty pussy.” Roman told him, the words coming out a low rumble. Seth was starting to feel a little numb, so achy and sore he’d looped around to unfeeling. He was sniffling against the carpet when Roman started up again. “It’s red all over. I won’t be surprised if it bruises.”

“You gonna fuck his little pussy?” Dean asked.

Roman, not stopping, smacks stinging down his sit bones now, giving his tender hole a rest, scoffed, “I’m not fucking him dry like you. I’ll just take his mouth.” 

He finished with a few last spanks over his rim before letting Seth’s hips collapse onto the floor, his hands drawing up so he could bury his face in his arms. Roman was shuffling around him, getting a handful of his hair and yanking his face up. Seth tried to grab his wrist, hissing at the way his scalped tugged. He met Roman’s eyes, and the man looked almost soft, untroubled by it all. One of his big, rough, powerful hands cupped his cheek, thumbed away some of the moisture under his eye. Seth almost turned to snuffle into his palm for comfort when the hand in his hair started to guide him down.

His lips mashed shut and a soft whimper that had been stuck in his throat accidentally got out. Roman just shushed him, undoing the front of his pants with his free hand.

“Get him on his knees. I wanna see his ass.”

Roman positioned him, regripping his hair for better leverage. Seth’s knees were starting to burn so he spread his legs a little more for a better angle. Dean whistled. “Jesus, Rome, he looks _raw._ Too bad it’s gonna heal soon.”

“Come on,” Roman said, ignoring his partner for Seth. “Pull me out.” Seth’s stomach clenched but he did it, Roman’s cock hot and hard in his palm, the skin soft. There was some noise behind them but he tried to focus, compulsively swallowing, wetting his lips. When he opened his mouth to breathe, Roman smeared the tip against his lips, dipping in just a bit, nudging Seth’s head in. Seth flashed his eyes up in anger and promptly shut his mouth, turning his head much as he could.

There was a faint click behind him, and Roman was chuckling, pinching Seth’s nostrils. Seth tried to twist away, but Roman held him steady and slicked up fingers pressed into his bruised, tender asshole, and Seth had to gasp. Roman pushed in, far enough to make him gag, and let his nostrils go. Dean started to scissor him open as his partner fucked their mate’s mouth in short snaps forward. Seth thought he might have gone a little cross-eyed at the sensations, so he scrunched his eyes tight and tried to relax his jaw. 

Roman tugged on his hair. “Suck, baby.” and he hit in too deep again, Seth gagging and choking in response. He sucked tentatively, tried to pull back a little and couldn’t. Dean drew his fingers back for a second before pushing in again, wetter this time. He nudged over that bundle of nerves, making Seth moan and gurgle over the dick in his mouth.

Dean laughed, sounding almost euphoric. “We’re gonna wreck this sweet thing, darlin.” he promised. “Your pretty mouth pussy and your tiny, little ass cunt – you won’t be able to recognize either by the time we let you leave. We’re just getting warmed up, aren’t we, Rome?” Roman rolled his hips in response.

“Oh, man,” Dean sighed, tormenting Seth’s prostate. “I wish we’d brought toys. Why didn’t we think to do that?”

Roman shrugged, seeming uninterested in talking. Seth was still only sucking weakly, trying to ignore the throb of his overstretched rim and the deep-centered pleasure Dean was giving him, but Roman seemed close. His breath was catching, grip tightening in his hair, and he made a gesture for Dean to pull out, which he did.

He guided Seth’s face up, cock in one hand, and pumped once, twice, then shot over his panting open mouth, onto his tongue and beard and throat. The scent of it hit Seth dirty and low, and he wanted it off of him immediately. He reached a hand up to wipe it away, but Roman caught his wrist.

“Uh-uh-uh.” he said. “You know better than that.” 

Seth narrowed his eyes and tried to yank his hand away. “This is ridiculous,” he told them, voice hoarse. He tried to steady himself better so he could wrestle out of Roman’s grip, but the movement pulled on bruises and he fumbled for a second. It was enough for Dean to get his hands under his armpits and drag him up. 

“Let’s get you to the bed, princess. That rug burn looks nasty.”

Seth dug his heels in and then kicked Roman in the jaw when he tried to grab his legs. It cracked ominously and, as Roman bent forward in shock, Seth kneed him right in the face. Dean laughed, but Roman growled, his lip split and bleeding, his jaw cracking as he tried to straighten out the kinks, and Seth was torn between pride and abject terror. 

Without a second thought, Roman tore Seth out of Dean’s arms and punched him square in the face, twice. The second time broke his nose, stunning him effectively silent. He vaguely registered that Dean was still snickering behind them, but he was getting swallowed up in Roman’s eyes as he drank him in, all the anger instantly gone, replaced with quiet awe.

The next thing he knew, Seth was being kissed. It was dizzying, and it almost felt foreign, like he hadn’t been kissed in a long, long time, which he knew wasn’t true. Roman was lapping at the blood and semen on his lips, sucking it off his beard, eating it out of his mouth. He was cradling his face with one hand, his other arm drawing around his waist to press him close, to lift him up on his toes to get them level as he sloppily made love to his mouth. 

Seth was starting to feel lightheaded. He couldn’t quite breathe through his nose and Roman wasn’t giving him many opportunities to use his mouth. His fingers scrambled to clutch his biceps, holding on to maintain his balance.

“Ah, fuck, that’s hot.” Dean groaned. Roman pulled back, smiling, his mouth bloody, teeth shockingly white in comparison. Seth instinctively brought a hand up to touch his nose, which unsurprisingly hurt to touch, the loss of blood and air and blunt force trauma were making him woozy. 

“We better fix that before it heals wrong.” Roman murmured, eyes still searching Seth’s face, calm, unapologetic. 

“I don’t know.” Dean said, coming into view. “I kind of like it.” He crowded against Roman’s side to look over their mate as well. Seth just wavered on his feet, his sore, unsteady legs not helping. One hand was still clutching Roman’s forearm for stability. “We could keep it just for a bit.”

“Hunter’ll kill us if we fuck up his face for good.”

Dean scoffed. “He’ll be fine, just as pretty as ever. No one’ll notice.”

Roman might’ve said something, or maybe just made a low contemplative sound. Seth couldn’t tell. He did see them kissing, Dean clearly interested in licking Seth’s blood of Roman’s lips. Seth couldn’t really bring himself to feel anything about that because he was momentarily blacking out, stumbling into Roman’s chest. 

It all was a little hazy from there, weightless. The next thing he was certain of, he was on his back, comfortable enough on the bed, someone slapping his cheek to get a response. He squinted his eyes open and was met by Dean, looking serious, maybe worried, before he grinned.

“Welcome back to the party. I’ve never seen you check out so easily, pretty boy.” and then as an addition, he pointed out, “Although, you aren’t very _pretty_ right now.” To further his point, he flicked a finger over his mangled nose, which stung at the contact, his smile growing sharp and tight when Seth flinched.

“We should fix it.” Roman repeated. Seth finally snapped his gaze to his other mate, who was sitting further down the bed.

Dean looked back. “Aw, can’t we keep it for just a little longer? I think it’s kinda cute - like one of those dogs with the messed up faces. I wanna fuck him like this.” 

Roman sighed. Seth was still sort of drowsy and out of it, so he shut his eyes, telling himself he didn’t care what they decided. “Just one round.” Roman said, and then over the sounds of Dean’s contained celebration, he added, “But we’re fixing it right after.”

“Sure, sure.” Dean waved him off. “Hand me the lube.”

Seth’s body almost felt divided in two, one half occupied by his bloody, throbbing nose, the other consumed with his swollen, sore asshole. When Dean touched him there again, Seth couldn’t hold back the pained groan, or the way his knees twitched, wanting to pull up and move away but knowing better.

“Selfish, little slut.” Dean cooed. “You’re starting to get it.” His fingers were cool and slick, but much too broad and it only got worse as he started to stretch them apart. “You feel so wet.” he told Seth, who was still a little too out of it to have a response. “God, I missed this sloppy pussy.” which Dean must’ve said to Roman, because the other man _hmm_ ed, his weight shifting on the bed, and then another finger was prodding at his entrance.

“No.” Seth rushed, his eyes snapping open. Roman was right next to Dean, his mouth still bloody but dry now, his finger nudging to edge in alongside of his mate’s. “Stop, it _hurts_.”

“Darlin,” Dean huffed, impatiently, as if he was explaining this for the thousandth time, “That’s the idea.”

“Besides,” Roman added, sounding much more reasonable, “I’m sure Vince wouldn’t be happy if we wrecked you too much on our knots.”

Seth made a deep rasping sob, a hand coming up to press over his eyes as Roman pushed in. He pulled at Seth’s rim viciously, tugging it away from Dean’s fingers. Seth was keening, his back arching on the bed, his fists clenching in the sheets. Roman hooked a second finger inside and Seth begged, “ _Please_.”

“You think he’s ready?” Dean asked, pulling his fingers out.

“Ready enough.” said Roman, who then gave Dean a quick kiss, his hands roaming down to undo his mate’s belt and zipper. “How do you want him?”

“Ugh, flip him over.” Dean said, scrunching his nose up, “I don’t think I actually want to stare at his ugly face.” 

Which was how Seth ended up on his stomach and then, with a little prodding and smacking, with his ass lifted in in the air for a proper mounting. Dean’s thighs came between his, keeping them spread wide. He slapped his cock against Seth’s entrance just to hear the garbled, shocked noise he made, and then teased in, grinding his dickhead against Seth’s raw, hurt rim. 

Pushing in had Seth gasping, fingers curling in the bedsheets. Dean wasted no time in setting a fast hard pace, hitting in, riding Seth’s ass as he choked on his breath and spit. Dean paused for a second, looping his arms around Seth’s waist holding him close, and changing the fuck to something deeper, quicker, more brutal. Seth’s mouth feel open with the litany of broken sounds he couldn’t stop, one screwed out of him right after another.

Dean made an answering growl, saying hot in his ear, “Oh, yeah, I bet Daddy H can’t fuck you this good, huh? I bet J&J can’t fill you up like I can, even if they put their tiny hobbit dicks together.”

“You’re – you’re crazy.” Seth bit out, his cock starting fill in response nonetheless. “You - _ah_ \- you - ” Dean repositioned them again, dragging Seth with him by his hair.

“Oh, I’m fucking crazy, huh?” he bit, and Seth could hear that they’d gone from plain mean dirty talk to that place of deep-seated hatred they shared. “Well, at least I’m not some filthy fucking whore.” And he tilted Seth’s head back even more, baring his throat in a tight line, ramming himself in so hard Seth was close to _wailing_ each time. “Come on, tell me, Seth. You moan like this when Triple H loans you out to Kane for the weekend?”

“ _Crazy_.” Seth repeated, his hands clambering to clutch Dean’s, needing something to hold onto a Dean mercilessly slammed into his hole.

“Stop saying that.” Dean hissed, tugging hard on his hair.

“Crazy.” Seth gasped. “Crazy, crazy, cra - ” and Dean slapped a palm over his mouth.

“ _Shut the fuck up_.” he demanded. “Just shut the fuck up.” Seth still couldn’t breathe out of his nose yet, still broken and gunked up, and the palm over his mouth was quickly became a larger issue. He squirmed, panic rising, and Dean groaned as Seth inadvertently clenched down on his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” the man was groaning, and his knot was starting to form, already catching on his mate’s rim.

“Dean, watch it.” Roman said.

“What?” he panted, dazed, hand still in place as Seth clawed at it, the lack of air and the rapidly expanding knot making his head feel funny. Roman was saying something, but it was muffled and things were starting to get a bit hazy around the edges. Dean’s grip on his mouth slipped and, before Seth could think about it, he bit at the threat to his oxygen flow, grabbing Dean’s arm and taking a chunk out of his wrist in retaliation, his mouth full of too sharp teeth.

“ _Fuck!_ " Dean shouted, knot locking them into place, Seth’s mouth full of skin and blood, spitting out what he could while Dean defensively drew his arm back. It was just as Seth was coming back to himself, realizing what he’d done that something hit him hard on the back of the head and knocked him the fuck out.

* * *

When Seth came to, his hands were being tried to the headboard, and he was back on his stomach, still plugged up with Dean’s knot. His nose ached, but he could breathe through it and he figured it’d been fixed. Blearily, he blinked his eyes open, just as the belt that was securing his wrists above his head was tightened one last notch. He pushed up on his elbows, meeting Roman’s eye as he looked down at him, and he could hear Dean saying, “I thought donkey punching someone like that was supposed to make ‘em tense up.”

“I think that’s just a sex myth.” Roman allowed, stepping back as Seth pushed himself up even more, twisting his wrists to test the slack. He snorted, “Although, I’m not shocked that you believed it.”

Seth craned to look over his shoulder and saw Dean, shirtless now, having apparently used his tank to press over his wound while his skin stitched back together. “Wow, Seth.” he drawled. “Just when I thought you couldn’t be a bigger pain in my ass.”

“I couldn’t breathe.” Seth bit out. And when Dean just raised his eyebrows, Seth snapped, adding, “I got – My wolf got nervous.”

“Do I make you nervous, princess?” Dean asked, and he tossed the tank aside, his wrist clearly healed emough. “Do I make you feel like an animal?” And he rolled his hips forward, the knot which had previously just been uncomfortable now rubbing into his sensitive places, making Seth grit his teeth in frustration.

“What are you gonna do? Spank me again?” 

“Nah.” Dean chuckled. “Nah, not that. But I’m not sure I’m in the right position for what I really wanna do. I’m feeling,” he pulled his hips back, making Seth groan as the too big knot tugged inside him, “A little stuck. You think I should, Roman?”

“Hey, brother.” Roman said, shaking his head to indicate it wasn’t his choice. “It’s your arm he took a chunk out of.” 

“Yeah, and he totally ruined this nice bed set. The hotel’s gonna be pissed. I should probably bring the maid staff in and ask them what they think I should do with you, huh?” he teased, pinching Seth’s asscheek, mock-playful.

“I don’t care.” Seth said, and there was more truth in it that anyone expected. He closed his eyes and lied back down, resting his cheek on his forearms, looking away from Roman, who was still hovering at their sides

“Well,” Dean murmured after a second. “That’s no fun at all. But, you’re in luck. I think my knot’s starting to go down.” 

It took another few minutes for Dean to be able to pull out; he and Roman sharing soft conversation while they waited. And it hurt when he pulled away – physically and emotionally, Seth's body not feeling ready for its mate to leave. Seth finally turned to look at them and he saw Dean pulling his belt out of the loops and letting his pants rest loose on his hips. He held the buckle in his hand, and then thought better of it, wrapping the other end around his fist, which had Seth’s spine tightening, his throat clenching in panic. Roman sat down on the end of the bed to watch.

“If you count, and thank me for each one, maybe we’ll do ten.” Dean explained.

“And if I don’t?”

Dean shrugged. “We’ll do more.”

“I’ll count.” Seth said softly, feeling sick to his core at himself. 

“And thank me very sweetly, like I know you can?” Dean prompted.

“And thank you.” Seth nodded, his voice tight.

“How?”

Seth bit his lip, his heart starting to double-time in his chest. “Very,” he managed, hating how his voice wavered and then stuttered, “Very _sweetly_.”

“Why are we doing this, baby?” Roman asked.

“Because,” he started, almost wishing they’d just get on with it. “Because I bit Dean?” 

“Because you’re a nasty, filthy animal, and a shitty mate, and it’s what you deserve.” Dean corrected. Closing his eyes tight, Seth tried to breathe, slowly, keeping his tension from shaking his shoulders shamefully. His face was burning, and it was only made worse when Dean demanded, “Say it.”

“I’m _not_ \- ” he harshed, and the next thing he knew, he was breaking down, his throat closing up over a lump. Without any further prodding, he choked, “Because I’m a bad mate, and I deserve this. I _deserve_ this.”

In the next second, the belt buck was hitting against his back, tearing at his the skin on his shoulder, making him cry out. He could already scent blood, but he caught his breath and hitched out a, “One,” and a “Thank you.”

The second time, the buckle stung him right over his spine, making him tug his hands in their binds, nearly dislocating his wrist to break free. His legs were curling up. His whole body was curling up, trying to avoid a further beating by shrinking. “Two,” he sobbed. It took a few more breaths for him to express his gratitude, but when he did, he was almost immediately whipped a third time.

The buckle prong dragged across his back, and he was screaming, keening, crying messy and breathless. “Th-three. Thank you.” he panted, rambling, already half gone. “Thank you, _please_.”

There was a pause before the fourth one, probably Dean readjusting his grip or sharing an amused look with Roman. But when it finally did come, Seth had tensed too much in anticipation, and he wailed, the sound ringing through the otherwise very silent room. “Four-thank you.” he rushed out.

And if four was bad, five was even worse as Dean hit over his shoulder again, digging into the same, already torn up spot. Seth couldn’t even bring himself to speak, just made a high, wounded, animal sound and then started to cry into the cradle of his arms.

“Maybe we should stop.” Dean said to Roman. “I – uh – What if there’s a noise complaint? He’s being really fucking loud.”

“You said ten.”

“I said maybe ten.” 

“What do you think, Seth?” Roman murmured, voice barely loud enough over the man’s pained sniffling. 

“I deserve,” he tried to say, and his whole body pitched with a sob. “I deserve – I _can’t_ \- ”

“Okay, darlin, that’s it.” Dean said, dropping his belt to the side.

“What?” Seth tried to say, his chest still struggling with every breath.

“I said that’s it.” Dean repeated, coming to free Seth’s wrists. His own hands seemed to be shaking, and it didn’t make any sense. Seth almost wanted to laugh. Mr. Dean Ambrose; Mr. Hardcore Wrestler, getting shaky over a little blood. He had to be imaging because it was so ridiculous; a hallucination brought on by his entire being quaking so much he couldn’t see straight. 

Roman stood and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, making him jump. “Go wash your face.” he said, nudging Dean towards the bathroom, where he went without further encouragement. “Bring back a wet towel.” he added, before sitting at Seth’s side, unbuckling his hands.

Once free, Seth tried to tug his hands to his chest, but Roman held them up and inspected his wrists before leaning in and kissing over a pulse point, sweetly, softly.

Seth started crying all over again, and he yanked his hands back to hide them from him. “ _Stop_.” he begged weakly. “Don’t – Don’t - ”

“Okay.” Roman nodded and started to look over his back. Dean came out with a towel and handed it to his mate. When it finally touched Seth’s skin, it was warm and soothing, and he let his eyes close. “See, he’s fine.” Roman was saying. “Already healing up nice. There’s some bruising, but he’ll be fine in a few hours.

Dean didn’t say anything, and Seth didn’t care. But he was soon being rolled on his back, the wounds hurting at first but subsiding if he stayed still, and he was face to face with Roman, who looked beautiful, who was looking at him like he was something beautiful too. All of it had Seth’s lips trembling like a child, tears that hadn’t really stopped picking up.

Roman cupped his cheek. "Can you do it one more time, for me?” he asked. “Please?”

And it hurt. It hurt to be asked. It hurt to know Roman would probably respect whatever answer he was given. It hurt to say yes, so he nodded instead, turning his gaze to the side, away from the both of them while Roman undressed and lined up and pushed into his already well-used hole. Dean moved onto the bed and then stretched out on his side to watch them closely, his gaze on Seth’s face when he gasped, eyes fluttering open.

Roman spent a moment gathering Seth close, bringing his legs up for a better angle, holding him near, letting him breathe through the stretch for a second. When he finally did start to move, it was slow, deep, had Seth’s own cock twitching in response, his toes curling, tears now falling at the terrible tenderness of it all.

“Oh,” Roman breathed, right in his ear, rocking in hot and good, like mates were known to do. “Oh, I love you. We still love you.”

Seth choked out a sob. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Roman rumbled, and angled himself a bit differently to brush over his prostate. “It’s true. Huh, Dean?”

“Yeah.” Dean admitted, dejected.

Roman could have said more, could have said worse, but instead he leaned in to kiss him cruelly, warm and gentle; the kind of kiss that made mouths tingle just with the memory of them.

Dean scooted even closer, cuddled up against Seth’s side, and reached between them to stroke his dick. The broken, wrecked cry Seth made had Dean shushing him, kissing a tear off his cheek, not saying anything because he he didn’t have words for these sorts of things. Seth was keening by the time he orgasmed again, Roman’s own hips starting to roll a little erratically.

“You knotting?” Dean hummed. Roman just nodded, thrusting more shallowly, burying his nose in Seth’s neck to breathe him in. In turn, Seth got a noseful of him, of spice, and of Dean, and of them all together.

Tied together, Seth had to say, “I hate you. I hate you for saying all of that.”

“I know you do.” Roman sighed, unmoving. Seth wanted to laugh hysterically at the notion, at Roman understanding. Dean brushed his thumb over his cheek and brought his attention elsewhere, and Seth was kissed again, a little deeper, filthier, like Dean had always preferred. There was a hand on his face, though, stroking, _petting_ , betraying too much on Dean’s part.

And they passed their time like that, Seth alternating between being kissed and scented, touched and stroked. And his body felt completely at ease, even after everything that had happened. Vince had been right – he needed to feel like he belonged. And it all made him want to scream and hurt something.

When Roman pulled out, they let Seth get off the bed and wander into the bathroom to wash up. He skipped the shower, just washed in the sink, not wanting to spend any more time there than he had to. He had blood and come to wash off of his face, his mouth, and more jizz slipping out of his hole than he wanted to think about. He looked like shit, even more tired than usual, so he dodged his reflection and just did his best.

This time, when he stepped out, Roman and Dean were just sitting on the bed, half-dressed, close but not touching, clearly waiting for him.

Seth ignored them in favor of limping to his discarded clothes and starting to put them on.

Dean stood up. “We meant it, you know.”

“Okay.”

“Seth, you don’t have to go back to them. You can - ”

“Stay with you?” Seth snapped, flashing his eyes at him. Dean’s own face was hard, looking ready to fight with him about this. Roman came to stand next to him. “After everything you two just did? No thanks.”

“Seth,” Roman started.

“Look guys,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “It was fun – or about as much fun as shacking up with you two losers usually is. But, newsflash, you don’t mean that much to me.” Which was a lie, they all could tell, but no one pointed it out. He swallowed and tried to think of something else to say, something to hurt them, but they beat him to it.

Roman shrugged, nonchalant all of a sudden. “Oh, well.” He bent down to grab his shirt, just as Dean was doing the same. “I guess we’ll see you Monday then. Let’s head home, man.”

“I wonder if we can set something up like this again.” Dean was saying to Roman, leading him across the room to the door. Roman laughed, starting to say something in response, and they left without another look at Seth.

And just like that, Seth was blinking after them, whiplashed, alone.

He made his way down to the lobby, where Hunter picked him up, smiling when he saw the way he was limping, how completely fucked he looked. His nostrils flared once close enough in obvious scenting, but he didn’t say anything and Seth didn’t want to talk, so he just got in the car.

Back at his own, smaller hotel room, Seth took a long, hot shower, almost scalding himself, but it made him feel a little better. The room was empty and quiet when he got out and stiffly put on something to sleep in, so he put on the TV for noise. Alone, the lights off except for the glow of the television, he told himself that this was fine, that this was what he had to do.

Falling asleep, snuffling into the lingering scent on his hands, the bed felt so cold.

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's it. Hope you guys liked it okay. Also, sorry? I guess. Ugh. It's late. I have a lot of mixed feelings about what just happened.
> 
> Hit me up on my tumblr at [my dope-ass blog](http://gigglesnortbangdead.tumblr.com/). Come talk to me about rasslin, and make all of the people who followed me for Teen Wolf super uncomfortable and then unfollow me! hahahahahaa
> 
> And, seriously, Grey. My bro. My Scotty 2 Hottie. My main man. Happy birthday. Hope this was okay enough.


End file.
